


Coming Home

by ideologies



Category: Assassin's Creed, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideologies/pseuds/ideologies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompts and their drabbles from tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Long Has It Been?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "How long has it been?"

Her laughter is soft, teasing but not unkind - it does nothing to stop the heat that covers his neck, the brief wavering thought that she means something entirely different. 

"Too long." He says at last, and her answering smirk does nothing not to ease his suspicion that there was some double meaning to her words. Aveline offers him a hand from her perch on a low branch and he hesitates once more.

He didn’t used to need help, used to be the one offering assistance to others but as one hand finds purchase on rough bark of the oak, the other in the soft yet sure grip of her hand, Connor finds he doesn’t mind the assistance so much as he once might have.


	2. Live Through This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Apparently punching a brick wall could result in broken fingers."

Punching it more than once apparently resulted in split skin and bruised knuckles, but the pain in Inquisitor Lavellan’s hand was a welcome distraction from the pain trying to climb it’s way from her stomach to her throat. 

A momentary outburst - very unbecoming of her newfound stature, she was sure - but necessary, unless Josephine cared to explain the bloodstains that would’ve mixed with the murals decorating a certain hedge mage’s study. 

It would also be the last he would be responsible for.

Ellana sets the breaks herself, binds her broken fingers with careful practice, cloth winding it’s way between the webbing of her fingers and over knuckles, until she looks like she’s wearing a boxing glove instead of the makeshift cast that it is. She will endure, she will survive.

She will live through this pain and she will not look back.


	3. Round Robin Writing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "This terrible tavern's not big enough for the both of us."

The wicked ~~magister~~

_This is a tavern, you imbecile, not a wine bar. No one of any class would be caught dead at such an establishment. - D.P._

~~templar~~

_You do realize how unlikely that is, do you not? We didn’t exactly leave towers to get sauced enough for terrible attempts at alliteration. - C.R._

~~_MAKERS BALLS THE BOTH OF YOU. I’d like to point out that at least ONE self proclaimed magister and ONE useless ex-templar both made routine visits to the Hanged Man, but FINE._ ~~

apostate sneered as he faced down the newly instated Captain of the Guard, Adeline Nevall, and a contingency of her men. "You have nowhere to run, [Insert Sinister but Sexy Name Here, maybe something ~~Tevint~~  

_Do not finish that word or I will personally singe off your chest hair. - D.P._

_~~Nevarran?~~ _

_No, Dwarf. - C.P_.

~~_Fine, fine!_ ~~

Orlesian]," the redhead

_Nice touch. REDHEADS. -T.I.B._

barked, sword and shield at the ready. “Surrender now and I’ll see that the arl is merciful.”

_But he won’t be. He is full and foolish and flaunting, but for what? The pretty guard who takes no notice-_

_Have you never heard of spoilers? Keep them and your filthy handwriting out of the margins! - V_

"And let you turn me over to the templars? I’d rather die first!"

_Please do something about this dialogue. And characters in general. Or perhaps just torch the entire thing? - S_

~~_Everyone’s a critic._ ~~

The rest of the text is made illegible by various inappropriate doodles, including the rogue apostate bending the guard captain over a desk.

**An excerpt from the as yet unfinished work of Master Tethras, Swords & Shields. circa 9:41 Dragon**


	4. Celebration Guns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "He's still recovering."

Cutting hair never used to be this hard but wounds both old and recent ache, barely healed even now that Charles Lee is dead. Connor thinks of letting his hair grow back in, but the war is never truly over, and he’s nothing if not a man without principle. 

Preparing is the easiest part; a bowl of water, a knife, and a bar of soap sit on the table before him. He lathers the sides of his head and sets the knife to his scalp when his side twinges in protest, doubled over in his chair.

It (everything) used to be so much easier.


	5. The Ghost Still Lingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes, Joker still turns around, expecting to see the commander there."

That’s the thing with big damn heroes; they’ve got a presence that lingers - even after they’re long gone. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t the Normandy’s bridge, that he’s serving under a new captain with a new crew, that while no one’s forgotten - because really, how could they? - the commander’s become some distorted messiah that barely resembles the person he knew. 

Sneaking up behind him, backseat driving, asking on his opinion on the crazies they collected like cat figurines… But, the good stuff, too. Saving him, not giving him shit for his rickety bones, the look on Shepard’s face when she realized she wasn’t reanimated and all alone, trying (and failing) to out sarcastic him when she got sick of being the boss and just needed a place to escape. 

People remember the leader, her actions and the shit that came after the clean up, and maybe that’s what they need, but him?

He remembers the woman, his friend.


	6. In Inches & Miles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things you said through your teeth, johanna/katniss

Recovery is gained in inches, and lost in miles.

There are days where she can’t make herself move, where the act of breathing should come naturally but it feels like a crushing weight on her lungs. Prim’s death still sits heavily on her conscious and on the days where Katniss can’t close herself off, can’t keep from feeling the full weight of her loss, she simply pulls a blanket over her head and pretends the world has stopped.

Johanna Mason is all too quick to remind her that the world stops for no one.

"Get up. I made breakfast and someone in this damn house is going to eat it." She barks, pulling at blankets, sheets, even tipping her off the mattress when a groan of misery and burying further into the covers is not enough to convince her to leave. 

Katniss thinks she hates Johanna in these moments, as she lays on the cold hard wood floor. You don’t get to choose how you mourn and she’s sick of the bullying, her forcefulness, her inability to let her be. Frankly, she’s had enough.

She grabs a handful of blanket and pulls, catching the mock lumber jack off guard for only a moment, before she’s pulling back and they’re engaging in a tug-of-war over the comforter. 

"Let. Go.” 

"First you have to make me, brainless."

Katniss’ jaw clenches as she wraps her full weight in the blanket, hissing through her teeth, “You don’t understand-” but she never finishes that sentence because that’s the precise moment the fabric tears and Johanna falls on her ass opposite of her. 

She wants to take it back immediately but instead it hangs in the bedroom, an unbearable silence only punctuated by labored breaths and angry stares and she wonders if this is the breaking point, the final straw that will end with her alone. 

Johanna balls up what’s left of the comforter and throws it at Katniss’ face, hard, as she pulls herself up. 

"Fuck you for saying that, and fuck you for meaning it." She growls, but instead of stomping away, she’s only closer, shoving an offered hand in her face. "Now get up and get your ass downstairs before the pancakes burn."

Katniss obliges, and the rest of the day continues in small steps - eating, bathing, cleaning - until the pain is lesser and more distant once again.

Johanna doesn’t leave her side the entire time.


End file.
